Devil May Cry: Witches and Warlocks
by Reis Nailo
Summary: Year: 2013, Dante and Trish are thrust into a battle like no other with humanity on the brink. Will the powers of two mysterious demon hunters be enough? Xover DMC and Bullet Witch. Later Chapters may be M rated. Chapter 2 is up!
1. Chapter 1

**Devil May Cry: Witches and Warlocks**

**Crossover of DMC and Bullet Witch**

**Disclaimer: DMC is not mine, though I'm sure most people do wish it was theirs. Bullet Witch for the 360 is also not mine.**

**Author's Note: Italics are flashback or recounting moments. Single quote marks indicate thought (''). Double quote means . . . duh, speech. Italics inside of double quotation marks is telepathy.**

**Party One: The Invitation**

_September 21, 2013_

_Earth's population is below one billion. Rough estimates from remaining refugee camps and resistance groups put the current human population at 7.5 million people left alive. What happened to put the world in such a crisis? _

_Demon invasion._

_From a single point deep within the forests of what was once Germany seven years ago; a spawning gate ripped open in a deep pit riddled with earthen spires. Populations began to dwindle first in 3rd world countries and unprepared 2nd world nations. The United Nations had swiftly formed an alliance to countermand the threat, but the appearance of the giants of the demon plane had caused them to fall to despair._

_Not a full year had passed and the term 'nations' was no more. The only thing left remaining was patches of U.S. Military survivors and handfuls of civilians forced to live in constant fear . . ._

. . . not that Dante could care less. The son of Sparda propped his feet on the desk he was at as he reached for the pizza on his plate. The few people left alive who had money were constantly calling the place for his skills. Granted, he didn't like the fact that humans were nearly extinct, but business was business. If someone could stop the invasion and purge all the other demons . . . that was fine with him. He wasn't going to do it though. The legend of Sparda was not something he wanted to make for himself, couldn't stand the thought of constant celebrity status.

Trish lounged on the plush sofa to his right. Her long blond hair and black satin dress flowed over the sides of her napping spot like a gold and onyx river. Dante couldn't help but smirk at her. The spitting image of his mother, which he still couldn't get over every once in a while; she slept on the sofa just like he remember his mother doing; with a handgun in her right hand as it dangled off the side. He never did figure out how she slept with a gun in her hand like that.

Regardless, the devil hunter's partner was getting a well deserved rest after the most recent jobs they'd accepted.

A slew of Giests had been mingled among the standard dark rabble that usual frequented a peculiar section of downtown Paris. Why would Dante set up shop in France? The answer was simple, pizza. The genuine article and not the Americanized stuff; of course it helped that Trish preferred real European cuisine to American food.

Regardless, ever since the news of the demon numbers decreasing with no signs of flaring back up, Dante figured some time off of work was long overdue. Information brokers, who weren't dead or maimed, had brought news that a woman in black with a giant broom styled gun was responsible. They had also mentioned that she wielded demonic powers. The two Demon Hunters laughed so hard at the man who told them that, that he demanded more money for not taking him seriously.

Not that either of them had cared about the extra money lost. If only people knew exactly who Dante was and how Trish came about. Then people wouldn't start trusting each other anymore.

He'd seen the woman's face on the local paper and had to admit she had a nice face. Not much else could be commented on since that was the only thing the photographer could manage. Rumor had it that the woman had glared at him so harshly after the flash that he pissed his pants and ran the other way.

'Guess he didn't want a lightning bolt called down on him.'

The woman's fight to exterminate all demons running around earth did interest him though. Especially since the recent title given to her had been something they shared in common . . . guns.

"Hmph, Bullet Witch."

He smirked at the invitation slip on his desk as he took another slice from the box. It was requesting his presence at a demon hunt. Personally, he didn't want to get involved, but the payoff looked pretty sweet. On top off that, the sender mentioned that he'd be showing up today anyway; might as well hear him out.

Just outside the doors to the Devil May Cry location, a man in a long black trench coat grinned at the fluorescent sign. The uniquely crafted Japanese styled blade at his side pulsed with power and empathy toward its master. The long suitcase in his right hand glistened as rain poured down from the gathered clouds. Inside it lay a pair of custom made weapons from his own design. The Redgraves had made them to his exacting specifications and they had yet to let him down; considering that in the past six months they had slain literally thousands of demons together.

"Heh, 'Devil May Cry'?"

The two men thought in sync as the newcomer lifted his foot to kick in the doors.

'This'll be interesting!'

**Short first chapter! Up Next: Party 2: Paint the Town Red . . . Blood Red**

**Read and Review and I might get another chapter up!**


	2. Chapter 2

**DMC: Witches and Warlocks**

**Disclaimer: Stated in the previous chapter.**

**Chapter 2: Paint it Red . . . Blood Red**

Deeper into the city stood the scarred Eiffel Tower, and upon it with legs crossed while dangling over the edge of the still tall structure lounged a lavish beauty. She was dressed in dark blue gothic leather and lace. Sadistically humorous, France had been the first to fall to the sudden demon invasion in Europe. In contrast to all the other countries, they were the most brutally lost nation. Ghoul soldiers took gluttonous glee over publicly executing citizens by firing squads and mobster like gun downs. The brain guards took control of children's minds and sent them on heinous crime sprees and gruesome perversions of all sorts. By the time the UN had brought together a decent fighting force, France and gay Paris had been lost.

"Such a sad sight, this city of once indulgent mortals once held grand festivals. Now it lies in ruins of its former glory; so very pitiful."

The deep foreboding voice reverberated through the young woman's very being. She nodded in silent agreement.

Darkness, that was the only thing she knew him as, so that was her name for him. He was a demon who had taken refuge in her reanimated body and soul when her father brought about the demon calamity in order to 'resurrect' her. She frowned.

"Is there another powerful demon like Omega here?"

"I can feel several powerful presences in this city. Exactly who or what they are . . . I cannot tell unless we were to meet them."

The red laser sight of a ghoul trooper's sniper rifle glanced over her figure before training on her heart. A wave of her hand and a silent chant from well formed lips summoned a mystical wall in front of her just before his rifle's muzzle flashed. The high caliber bullet disintegrated against the magical construction.

Tapping into the powers gifted to her by Darkness, her normally sea blue eyes transmutated into pulsing demonic crimson orbs. Her gifted sight clearly made out the sniper in the distance. In the back of her mind, she had to give the hellish minion credit, that had been one amazing shot. Twirling the broom styled gun in her hand until it changed into the form she wanted, another chant made the weapon glow with a soft light.

Lifting the gun to her shoulder, she let him reload and look back into his scope at her before she pulled the trigger. An eerie light shot from the barrel and impaled the shooter in the skull, his cranium shattered as the combat helmet flew off. A single anti vehicle shell sized casing flew from the chamber. A low chuckled echoed through her soul.

"That was amusing Alicia. Shall we go?"

"Yes. Maybe we'll run into these presences you've sensed."

Walking back to the only remaining elevator, a harsh and shrill wind blew the casing off the edge she had been sitting on. Countless more followed it in the plunge as ravens flocked around to gorge themselves on the corpses of ghoul troopers filled with bullet holes. Their bodies littered the once extravagant balcony. A flash of lightning followed by the instant crack of thunder announced to Paris that the Bullet Witch had come to to.

Dante was about to pick up another slice of pizza when the doors to their joint crashed open. A lone figure in a long coat and Japanese style sword walked in from the rain. A shining gun metal silver case hung from his right hand. Trish started, suddenly roused from her slumber. She spared a glance at the newcomer and then at Dante. The flare of supernatural power from the stranger evaporated the moisture from his clothes and hair.

The heavy oaken doors shut as he stepped inside, his gaze admiring the decorum. The pool table had a dark maroon felt; the balls littered the table lazily with a pair of cue sticks. The jukebox in the corner of the lobby had a dent in the selectors, undoubtedly from a few harsh moments. The couch in which the lithe woman reclined and scrutinized him from matched the billiards table. The harsh, unmistakable click of a gun being cocked brought his attention back to the man he wanted to see.

Dante aimed Ivory at the man almost casually, though everything about the man screamed his experience with the gun. He bet that the legendary son of Sparda could shoot him between the eyes with his own closed . . . multiple times.

"Hold on a minute buddy. Normally I'd offer the bathroom to you, but you've got the stench of a hunter; not one of these recent pig headed jackasses, but a real deal son of a bitch. What do you want?"

The black haired man ruffled his hair with his left and set down the case beside the pool table. Lifting one of the cue sticks from its resting place, he twirled it, testing its balance.

Dante huffed and gestured with Ivory again.

"Hey, I'm not real patient right now. I've got a meeting with client in a few minutes. Now you can leave with nothing or with a souvenir in your head."

Grey blue eyes fixed themselves on the half demon son of Sparda; a glimmer of respect and mischief resonated through them. The pool stick stopped mid-spin as the newcomer chucked the cue stick like a lance at Dante. A single shot rang out as the projectile approached. Trish watched with a good measure of interest. It wasn't often that anyone came in and just launched an attack at either of them anymore.

The bullet tore through the stick in a perfect line down the center, the kenetic energy splitting it in two halves that impaled themselves on either side of Dante's head. The two proprietors of Devil May Cry raised an eyebrow at the man. His hand was held at arm's length away from his face, the still smoking bullet from Ivory held between his index and middle fingers.

Bringing back his hand, he placed the chunk of imbued lead to his lips and bit it with his teeth. Inhaling the smoke, the man mimed the gesture of taking a puff from a cigar and took the bullet away before exhaling the smoke. A wild grin plastered his face.

"You're as good a shot as they say you are Dante. My name is Kenneth Reeves, Demon Slayer of the Median Guild. Mr. Redgraves spoke highly of you."

A flick of Reeves' fingers sent the lead bullet into the trash can beside Dante's desk. Dante spared a quick look into the waste bin before setting Ivory on the desk beside Ebony. Trish sat upright on the couch, now fully attentive on the dark haired supernatural.

"The Median Guild?"

"They're an organized division of hunters and slayers out of Sicily that take their name from their preferred hunt, vampires. This one's different though . . ."

From behind his desk, Lucia came down the stairs; her slim form didn't hide her lethal build. The pair of short swords on the back of her hips clinked with the sway of her hips.

Kenneth smiled, glistening fangs shone through. A white ash stake in the form of a cross dangled from a simple chain necklace.

"He's a Congenerate Killer, a Kinslayer."

"You are well informed Miss Lucia. Tell me, how is Matier?"

The half breed woman's hands twitched. Dante began to reach for both his guns, for once not wanting to take a chance with his opponent. If what Lucia said was true, and he was a Kinslayer, this guy was trouble in every definition of the word. A vampire who hunted vampires had to be classes above the standard rabble.

'This guy catches my shot with his fingers and then smokes it? This might cure my boredom for some time.'

A spark of electricity shot across the wall holding all of Dante's Devil Arms. From its place, the wicked royal purple guitar spewed forth electrified bats that formed in the room across from the Median Guild member. Dark shadows warped into a long gown, a pale woman framed with blaze red hair and equally crimson eyes glanced over him. A little smile crossed her lips. Kenneth became amazingly respectful as the woman before them gazed at him.

"Lady Nevan . . . it has been a long time since family has seen you. I feel that they won't fret as much once they know that the great Son of Sparda was the one to best you. However, to the reason I've come to this place tonight."

Unsheathing the katana at his side, he shouldered the blade and smiled generously.

"We invite you to the hunt of a lifetime Dante. I personally organized this escapade, though I expect not half of them will survive. Therefore, their portion of the prize isn't proportionate with your prize should you like to take part in this."

Dante threw his guns back on the table, suddenly bored with the usual crap. Nevan shrugged and began to walk back over the wall before Kenneth pulled two shining stones from within his coat pocket. The jagged stones were almost pinkish in coloration, a tormented face in mid-scream seemed to be glazed upon each and ever facet of the two jewels. The lady vampire stopped abruptly, knowing that Dante wouldn't know the significance of the objects.

Her surprise came at Trish and Lucia, how leaned forward so suddenly that their partner jerked back in surprise.

"Are those Philosopher's stones?"

Kenneth's face showed no mirth as he slowly nodded in affirmation. The stones radiated a cold glow. Despite her desire to pluck the stones from his hand, Trish knew that this vampire must be powerful to hold the coveted stones in his bare hand. Under her control by Mundus, he'd explained that she must never touch the stones with bare flesh, as that was the catalyst to awaken them to their purpose.

"Alchemists of old desired and tried to produce these fabled gems through transmutation, but always failed. Yet in my hand are two of those very stones. Dante, these are your portion of the prize. Now will you accept my invitation?"

"Do I look like I wear jewelry?!"

Dante held his arms wide to let the Kinslayer look him over. The man smirked as he pointed to the demon hunter's chest.

"Then what's with the split pendants from your mother Eva?"

Ebony and Ivory were trained on him in an instant as Dante stood from behind the heavy wooden desk. His mind was fully aware of the man in front of him now. Trish had Luce and Ombra out and beaded on the vampire as well.

"How the hell do you . . ."

"Know your mother? When your father first met her I was actually stalking her as my next meal."

The vampire laughed lightly at the memory.

"He cut me off and went into this tirade about how a Devil's prey shouldn't be a Vampire's. Seeing as how I'd been a subordinate during his rebellion against Mundus, I reluctantly agreed. Though seeing her visage in Lady Trish is rather surprising, and twisted of Mundus."

The barrels of the four firearms dropped an inch at his words. Trish and Dante, along with Lucia were floored at this admission. The nostalgic look on his face wasn't being feigned either. A rich laughter permeated from the walls of the lobby. Kenneth stowed the Stones back into his coat and held his sword at the ready.

"Well, well. I sense a overly potent source of power and see not one, but two Philosopher's stones, the Son of Sparda, Mundus' lost little poppet, the half breed from the Island, and Nevan and Kenneth of the Vampires. What a prize."

A man wearing an elegant robe of well cut fabric stepped out of the wall behind the couch, making Trish jump up from the piece of furniture and lock her guns on him. The man held a crown on his head and a woman on his arm. She smiled lustfully at the group. Kenneth and Nevan went alert instantly.

"The Chessmaster and his Queen, what do I owe to this visit?"

Dante didn't like where this could be going. The moniker of Chessmaster didn't settle well with him. The memories of Temen Ni Gru didn't hold any fondness.

"Hey, since we're all thinking about having a party, why don't we have it outside?"

Kenneth caught the silver haired man's meaning and nodded once, as did the Chessmaster and his Queen. Nevan whispered her approval of the decision to move outside. It wasn't as if demons were myth now.

The two surprises walked out the doors as Nevan and Kenneth transformed into bat swarms and burst out the doors after them, but not before the Japanese sword carrying slayer flew past his case. Two of the bats carried it out as Trish and Lucia flanked Dante as they exited. The few humans who were out on the streets tonight fled the area.

The three parties arranged themselves in a triangle by convenience. The Chessmaster and his partner stood in the middle of the street to the left of the stairs leading into the Devil May Cry office. In contrast, the vampires stood opposite of them, leaving Dante, Trish, and Lucia at the top of the small flight of stairs.

The smiles on the vampires and demons were nightmarish, pleasant and vicious all at the same time. Kenneth held his sword like a dagger in his right as he crossed his arms over his chest. Nevan, in a strange gesture, held her left hand comfortably on his right shoulder, her claws extending from her right. The two seemed relaxed, but wary of the couple across from them.

Dante had grabbed Rebellion and his guns from the desk and wall, though he did have the Cerberus tri-chaku with him. Trish held the Force Edge easily as Lucia simply desired to watch and leaned against the wall beside the doorpost.

"Well now that we're all comfy, what do you want?"

The immaculately dressed man pointed at Reeves with a bony finger.

"Your Stones."

He smiled and flaunted his fangs with a cocky grin. He made a motion downward with his free hand. Nevan grinned.

"Can't have them, I rather like my stones as they are."

Trish and Lucia groaned at the adult joke. Dante chuckled at the man, the guy showed class and a casual nature that hide his age and power well. It felt like he could really actually get to like the vampire. Judging by Nevan's expression, she'd known him before they'd met in that damn tower.

Chessmaster seethed at the taunt.

"The Philosopher's Stones you undead ingrate! If you don't I will . . ."

"Kill me? A few thousand years too late Chessmaster."

The demon snapped his fingers and two sets of giant black and white chess pieces appeared on either side of the undead couple. The woman clapped her hands as red bodied apparitions with scythes and dusted brown cloaks appeared from thin air.

"Very well then Kinslayer, I'll just pry them from your unmoving corpse. Dante, Son of Sparda, we'll speak at length later."

As the two vanished and the Pawns began to move Dante cursed aloud.

"Damned Chess pieces?! Hell Lusts? How clique can you get? I fought these things long ago!"

The shattering of eight of the sixteen pawns caused all the Lusts to stop and stare. The others did the same. Fading images of Kenneth in various sword strikes looked like he was dancing among the demonic chess pieces. Standing on the balls of his feet, the sword still held dagger like, the nightwalker leaned back as if in a recliner as he turned his attention to Dante.

"Well, you said you were thinking about having a party. The board game's set; the party guests are rowdy,"

Reeves gestured at the Hell Lusts. A piercing wail sounded from either side of the pieces as two Vanguards twirled their scythes as they materialized.

"And all the guests of honor are assembled. Shall we dance?"

One of the Lusts lunged at the proprietor of Devil May Cry and found itself impaled on the wall across the street by Rebellion as he unslung Ebony and Ivory and popped a shot into two more as he walked down the stares.

"Alright Reeves, those Philosopher's Stones better be damn worth it! Let's party!"

**In the next chapter: The Forgotten**

**Read and Review and the next one should appear sometime.**


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